


Divide

by weazelbeater



Series: Love and War [10]
Category: Kill la Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Corporate, Anger, Anger Management, Archery, Attempt at Humor, Day At The Beach, Depression, F/F, Guitars, Murder, Music, Self-Hatred, Silly, Threats, Training, Video & Computer Games, Violence, hardmode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 13:14:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7641901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weazelbeater/pseuds/weazelbeater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Divide and conquer. At least, that's the idea, anyways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Divide

-Nine Years Ago -

 

He had been in the office for quite some time. After regaining consciousness, he found that he was bound quite effectively to a chair, with some kind of black velvety bag over his head. He tried in vain to listen to his surroundings, to hopefully ascertain any clues as to where he might have been, but the room was apparently soundproofed. He could sense the room’s dead nothingness, the absence of any and all auditory occurrences: this was the tip off, since he could hear his own grunting and muffled cursing just fine.

A click was heard nearby, and the faintest traces of light made themselves known under the bag’s bottom. He heard some kind of shuffling, then the faint sound of a door being slammed. A scent filled his nostrils, perfume of some sort. Its odor was intense, cloying in its presence. He sniffed at the air, wondering who would wear so very much of such an ostentatious perfume. He tensed, waiting for the inevitable punch, or worse. Instead, the bag was slowly lifted from his head, revealing a brightly lit office.

Actually, no. This office was only illuminated by a single table lamp. Where was all this light coming from, then? Was it…was it coming from the person who was now standing before him? Some strange woman with the most outrageous hairstyle he had ever seen…and he remembered the music scene of the late eighties, so that was saying something.

“Good evening, young man. Are you perhaps noting my lovely fragrance? It’s wonderful, isn’t it? One would expect no less from the most expensive perfume in the world, after all! Scent is such an important part of your identity. It immediately communicates more than your clothes or demeanor because one can smell you without looking at or even talking to you. It’s one of the most delicate yet strong parts of the human sensory experience…scent can evoke certain memories and give off a certain aura, desirable or otherwise. Wouldn’t you agree, Executive Vice President and Chief Financial Officer Alexander Campion?”

The man squinted up at the tall woman, whose magnificently coiffed hair seemed to glow with a luminescent, multicolored aura. There was something rather unnerving about her features, especially her eyes...but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. ‘ _Lights?_ _Glowing hair?_ _I must be seeing things…how long was I out?_ ’ he distantly pondered to himself as he defiantly spat out “Who the hell are you, lady? Why am I here and what the FUCK do you want with me? You’re making a big mistake, kidnapping me! I’ve got-“

“What you have here, Mr. Campion, is an _opportunity_. You would do well to listen to my offer. Cease your inane prattling at once, or you will soon regret it!” Her voice was deep, husky. The accent was unusual, clipped and stilted: even though her English was grammatically perfect, he surmised that she was not born in America, but on foreign soil. Her English was _too_ good, too perfect for that to be the case. This was one of the many things he had learned to note in his years of meeting with foreign liaisons.

“Now, Mr. Campion…may I call you Alexander? I don’t wish to be quite so formal, I feel as though a more…intimate connection needs to be forged here, yes? We _can_ be on first name terms here, can we not? You may call me Lady Ragyo. Now isn’t that nice? I have bestowed upon you the great and rare privilege of addressing me on such familiar terms! I am nothing, if not generous!”

 _‘Raggio…Lady Raggio? That isn’t…Italian, is it? She sure doesn’t look Sicilian, that’s for sure. Now where have I heard that oddball name before?’_ Alexander mused to himself, racking his brains for the information, dancing just out of his fatigued brain’s reach.

“Look, you crazy bitch, I don’t care what your name is! You need to let me go now, or I’ll bring down the full fury of my-“

“Tut, tut! Respect, young man! This is the first rule of business negotiations! If you do not tread carefully, I shall be forced to reduce you to addressing me as ‘Lady Ragyo Kiryuin, Chief Executive Officer of REVOCS Corporation’. Now I ask you: do you desire things to be so very formal between us? I, for one, was hoping for a more friendly relationship. You will discover that great things can happen when one is blessed enough to be counted amongst my many, many allies.”

 _Kiryuin_. The owner of the largest clothing conglomerate in the world. A name that most people only ever referred to in hushed tones, as though it carried some association of an unlucky curse with it. A shiver involuntarily ran down Alex’s spine as he swallowed thickly. He was suddenly acutely aware of his own ragged breathing, the air being somehow contaminated with that sickeningly sweet perfume.

“Since you are _only_ the executive vice president of your company, I suppose that perhaps I shall, in my infinite wisdom, forgive your transgressions for now. You see, young Alexander…I have need of your assistance with a rather pressing matter. Your company has been futilely resisting my attempts at a buyout, and this simply will not do. I _will_ be cornering the North American clothing market, and  your company is the lynchpin of this grand plan! The financial regulators in your country are but a minor annoyance for me, of course, but if your board of directors doesn’t come around to see the light… _my light_ , well…”

Ragyo placed a white leather glove on the table in front of him. She paused briefly, to make sure he was watching the situation as it unfolded. Picking up the glove, she ceremoniously pulled it on over her right hand, gracefully donning the precisely-tailored garb as if she were preparing for opening night at the opera. The REVOCS CEO stretched out her hand, making an exaggerated show of admiring the delicate grace inherent in her flawless digits. She then slowly flexed her hand into a tight fist, the leather audibly groaning and protesting from the immense pressure coursing within her hand.

“I shall require but one thing from you and yours, Alexander: total and absolute obedience! You will be working for me now, and your first order of business shall be to sway the board’s vote in my favor to make way for REVOCS’ eventual corporate takeover. I am well aware of the influence you carry, being a fifth generation company man within your family’s own organization. I wish to commend you for your dedication! I absolutely understand the importance of family tradition, I assure you! Such dedication will, of course, be generously rewarded...you shall truly reap the rewards of being one of my dedicated underlings. Immense wealth is but one of the many earthly benefits of such an arrangement! What do you say, hmm? Have we a deal? Shall we shake on it?”

Alex laughed out loud, a resounding outburst that assaulted Lady Ragyo’s delicate and patrician eardrums in an entirely unpleasant manner. “Let me get this straight. You expect me to betray my family’s legacy, just like that? To just...fork over the keys to my family’s hard-earned kingdom because it would be _convenient_ for you? I don’t give a fuck  who you think you are, this is not how business is conducted in _my_ world! You know what you can do with that fucking glove of yours, lady? You can shove it up your own incredibly fat _ass_ and shake hands with your motherfucking spleen, you goddamned bitch! We will never sell to the likes of you, you fucking disco dance floor reject! You hear me? NEVER!”

A sardonic chuckle made its way out from Ragyo’s smirking, glittery lips. Her hand relaxed, the fist unfurling into what appeared to be the illusion of an earnest handshake gesture in front of him. He barely had enough time to focus upon the glove before it became an impossible blur, whipping out with the frightening speed of a fearsomely-maneuvered bullwhip.

His head uncontrollably quivering from the blow, the terrible **_*whap-ish*_** sound was still ringing in his ears as his rattled brain struggled to recognize what just happened. Fear suddenly flooded his being, cold facts now falling into place within his now-traumatized skull, much like snowflakes settling down upon a bloody battlefield.

_‘That was just…a slap. An open-handed slap.’_

In all his years on this planet, the human known as Alexander Campion had never even once experienced such an immensely powerful blow. Not during his brief time as an amateur-turned-professional boxer in his youth, when his strict former-middleweight-champion father discovered what he was planning as a career…and convinced Alex to ‘retire’ early by showing him first-hand what a true professional’s punch really felt like. Not during his stint in the Marines, his jaw crashing upon the ground during self-defense courses, fractured and wired shut for weeks afterwards. Not even during his horrific car accident six years ago, his Saab struck head-on by a drunk driver and his skull ricocheting off the window.

He had never experienced something as powerful as that which just struck him.

It was just a _slap_.

His jaw was shattered, once again. He felt the all-too-familiar grinding, blinding pain shooting down his neck, into his head. The woozy, dazed fog of a severe concussion was spreading, he dully noted as if from a great distance. Blood and drool pattered upon his tie, shirt and business slacks, as he was now unable to keep his mouth closed properly.

Ragyo’s vaguely avian, predatory eyes drank in this delightful scene of misery, thoroughly enjoying this aspect of her own brand of interpersonal negotiations. She snapped her fingers twice in rapid succession. “Satsuki, dear? Come in here, now.”

The door opened, and in stepped a young, slim and exceedingly attractive Japanese girl. She moved with efficient grace and purpose within an all-white business ensemble, and he could tell by her cadence that she was accustomed to the more rigorous aspects of life: she moved with the militaristic precision of a Marine drill sergeant during a parade. Her heels clacked smartly on the tile floor, coming to a halt just behind and to the side of Lady Ragyo, her long, flowing jet-black hair swaying gently with her movements.

She stood at rapt attention, in a disciplined fashion he hadn’t witnessed since his days of basic training. Arms precisely folded behind her, with cold, calculating blue eyes that regarded his haggard, beaten frame with callous indifference. She stared at him behind an upturned nose, a deep frown upon her face as if he had somehow just run over her beloved puppy.

Ragyo’s voice dripped with sultry venom. “Unfortunately, it would appear that Mr. Campion has rejected our generous offer. An enemy of REVOCS is an enemy of progress and must be dealt with accordingly. Wouldn’t you agree, daughter?”

Satsuki regarded the man with a passive glare, her reproachful stare observing the man’s poor state of affairs. She nodded once, dismissively. Alexander snorted, then spat in the general direction of the two looming figures.

“Whoth’s thish, hah? Queen Bitfth Junior, eh? Wha’, ith thith yer firtht ‘bwing yuhr daughthew t’ workh’ day, yah… _foreighn chwomatic cunt_?” Chips of tooth enamel worked their way past his split lips, mixed in with a steady trickle of saliva and blood as he barked weakly at Ragyo.

“Foreign…ah, but you have no idea, little man. Perhaps ‘alien’ might be the more appropriate term here, but alas! We simply haven’t the time to discuss such trivialities! Kiryuin Ragyo waits for no one! Now, since you have wasted _my_ own precious time, little man… your time is sadly at an end!”

She struck out again, this time with a lightning jackhammer fist that snapped his head back, instantly crushing the vertebra at the base of his skull into a haphazard jumble of bone shrapnel in the process. His head lolled back loosely, now as devoid of life as the rest of him.

The tall woman chuckled to herself, marveling at the inherent fragility of human life. “Now, my dearest Satsuki. I ask you: what have we learned today, hmm?”

“He was weak. He should have submitted.”

“Indeed, you are most correct. Strength in submission…that is the Kiryuin way!”

Ragyo stripped off the glove, depositing it upon the table as though it were a used candy wrapper. She sniffed derisively as she meticulously examined her immaculate nails, making sure that the human’s stubbornness hadn’t caused her to chip anything truly important.

“Ah, and to think that I just wanted to get out a bit and flex my negotiation muscles, as it were. What a quaint notion. I really _must_ leave this sort of dirty work in the hands of my underlings! Yet I felt that such an important acquisition might have required my own personal, delicate touch. Ah, well. La vie est vraiment drôle, oui? Perhaps his successors will learn to properly acquiesce to the fate I have already cast for them?”

“Mmm. One would hope.”

“Ah, indeed! Be a good girl and clean this up for me. Well, I’m off to the airport! I shall expect you home soon, dear daughter, once you are done with finalizing the arrangements here. Oh, and please do enjoy your time in New York City. It really is a lovely town, once you get past the rough edges!”

“Very well.”

“Oh, yes. One more thing. I don’t particularly care for the jasmine you are currently wearing, Satsuki. It’s simple, yet too…quaint. I do insist that you at least make the attempt to indulge in a more complex scent, something more befitting your social station?”

“I have more important things to do than worry about my bodily _scent_ , Mother. I have an indomitable fortress to build.”

“Ah yes, true. Well then, I shall take pleasure in your absolute productivity, if not your…absolute submission.”

Ragyo strode away, taking her omnipresent, prismatic glare with her as she exited the room. With illumination now coming from just a single lamp, the office’s oppressive atmosphere eased up just a bit, bringing it down to the overall level of a mundane, ordinary murder scene.

Satsuki stood there for a few moments, listening to make sure that her mother was indeed on her way out of the building. She waited patiently, her internal turmoil sending out not even the slightest ripple until her own two eyes confirmed the REVOCS helicopter streaking away from the tower’s roof. Only when this aircraft had become a blinking light in the distance did she slowly release her breath.

Hissing out a steady stream of air, as though she were a tea kettle about to signal its boiling point, Satsuki turned her gaze to the beaten husk of the man before her. “You stupid, thoughtless pig. If you had only surrendered, capitulated to her whims…you would be going home to your family right now, all the richer for your efforts. What does your pride get you now, other than a grave?”

 

 

-Present Day-

 

 

“…no, I could not possibly forget my roots. No truly successful person ever could, if they were indeed actually cognizant of their own unshakeable resolve, the impetus of their success. Yes, of course…our personal history creates the framework that dictates the architecture of our future. Yes, you can quote me on that, certainly. Ah…‘ _Driven_ ’ will be the title of this article? I agree, yes. I’m fine with that…yes, thank you for your praise, you are too kind. Oh, yes? Ah…th-thank you for that. My mother will indeed be…missed. Yes, it is truly tragic. Thank you for your kind thoughts. No, of course! I understand. Glad to be of service. Yes, please…do copy my assistant with that final draft, yes? Excellent. Then I shall conclude our call by saying that it has been an honor speaking with you. Truly, you have been most understanding of my position in all of this. I appreciate your efforts to take the time to get the story directly from me, in my own words! Ah, but of course! Yes, fare well.”

Kiryuin Satsuki promptly ended the call on her cellphone, then unceremoniously dropped it to the desk with a loud clatter. Cradling her head with both hands, she stared idly at the large dossier of last-minute paperwork she still had to sign. ‘ _Hmm. Imagine that: an actual polite and professional reporter! Here I thought they were displaced long ago by tactless muckrakers. Ah, but it matters not in the long run. By the time that magazine article hits the newsstands, REVOCS will be but a thing of the past._ _The keiretsu shall tolerate its existence no longer, now that it is clear I shall not be employing her vicious methods of doing business.’_

The dossier detailed the impending court-ordered breakup of REVOCS Corporation and the splitting up of the company assets, as well as the renaming of the various units that were about to become autonomous: REVOCS North and South America, REVOCS Asia, REVOCS Pan-Europe, and Isshin Aerospace. Hōōmaru Rei would inherit control of the Asian group, and the rest would be scattered to the winds of fate. Satsuki had elected to stay on the board of directors for the aerospace venture, as Inumuta Hōka had personally requested it. His materials research had taken on a life of its own, and he wanted her to stay close, to share in the coming advancements her father’s research was spurring on. She had, in a rare moment of sentimentality, named it after her estranged father, to reinforce the legitimacy of his alter ego’s brilliant legacy…thusly also lending credence to Matoi Ryuko being unrelated to herself as well. It was better that way for everyone involved, in her esteemed opinion.

Purchases were already lined up for the rest, as corporations worldwide were salivating at the chance to snap up the various components of what was once the largest clothing and textiles company in the world. It was history in the making…and she couldn’t have cared less. All that mattered now was for her to break ground on her personal project, the RECOVER Foundation: a non-profit home for the abused, a shelter for the violated. Not that ground had to actually be broken, of course, since the mansion would be serving as the primary headquarters for such a venture. Positive memories would eventually drown out the cacophony of ghosts within its haunted walls, of this she was certain.

Satsuki had plans for the future, big plans…and the proceeds of the corporate sale would be necessary to fund this idea of hers. Satsuki donned her reading glasses in order to power through the last of the document signing and stamping, flexing her right hand in preparation and musing internally to herself as she did.

_‘None of this matters, not anymore. With this dissolution in place, I shall cast off the shackles that keep me chained to her legacy. The RECOVER Foundation will be all that matters to me now. This is not defeat! It is simply a change in tactics, that’s all. This way, I will truly be able to help people. Yet it still feels like I’m surrendering, caving in to the pressure of… no. This is for the best. After all, it was not my company, but hers. Let it die a proper death, as she once did.’_

Completing this last part of her paperwork took up most of the morning. Hunger pangs subtly reminded her that food is indeed a required part of the human experience. Apparently a single banana wasn’t enough for this former and future CEO to get through her day, but it was late enough to now consider making lunch.

Searching for her wayward sibling was surprisingly easy, as the kitchen was in fact where the notoriously late-rising Matoi Ryuko was found to be staking out her claim to a bowl of cereal. The exhausted teen was mechanically scooping bran flakes up with her spoon, not even bothering to open her eyes for the deed. If Satsuki didn’t know better, she would have surmised that Ryuko had discovered the most boring cereal on the planet.

Ryuko had been acting quite depressed after her release from the hospital, and even though she knew more or less why, Satsuki was clueless as to how to go about cheering up the young girl. Satsuki thought back to her phone conversation the other day with Mankanshoku Mako, to find out how to lift Ryuko’s heavy spirits from the renowned cheeriness expert herself. Mako’s advice was dead simple in its complexity: “Aw, poor Ryuko-chan gets that way sometimes! Be extra silly to counter her grumpiness, it always worked for me!”

 _‘Okay. Be silly and light-hearted. Be cheerful. You can do this, Kiryuin...how hard can it be?’_ Satsuki carefully crept up behind the girl who was voted ‘ _Most Likely to be Forever Allergic to Mornings_ ’ by…well, everyone who had ever met her. She gently placed her hand upon Ryuko’s outstretched forearm on the kitchen table, praying that she didn’t startle the sleepyhead too much. Ryuko didn’t bat an eye, just grunted briefly to signal that the touch was noticed.

Satsuki’s hand then transformed into a little dinosaur, her middle finger forming an inquisitive neck as she slowly sauntered the critter up to Ryuko’s shoulder. The dinosaur nudged Ryuko’s ear while gruffly demanding (in what Satsuki hoped was perceived as a ‘cute’ voice) “Hey, you there. Sleepy girl! Why are you eating this stuff?”

Ryuko turned her head towards the creature perched upon her shoulder, and one blue eye opened slightly and regarded it with a confused look. “… _th’ fuck?_ Uh…because I’m hungry?”

“Yes, but the cereal box says ‘full of fiber’?” The dinosaur poked Ryuko’s neck playfully as it grunted out “I thought you were _already_ full of fibers?”

Ryuko’s mouth opened, shocked and momentarily speechless from the surreal situation as it played out. “Uh, yeah…well I think ‘Brontosaurus-sama’ here better mind her own business…or I’ll be having dino steaks for lunch.”

Satsuki laughed gently, reaching out to give her grumpy sibling a loving hug. She pecked Ryuko on the cheek as she chided the young girl about her attitude. “Oh hush, you. You do that to me all the time, you and your silly roaming ‘hands’. Turnabout is fair play, don’t you think?”

“Ugh. Sats, I do that stupid playful shit on _purpose._ I’m not really _that_ childish. I do that to make you aware of my presence, to prevent you from being startled, since you just _love_ being approached from behind so much? In case ya didn’t notice, I also whistle, hum, and make dumb, clumsy noises to announce my presence as much as I can…mostly because I have just barely enough dignity left in me to not actually wear a bell. Kiryuin Satsuki, you are the one person I do not _ever_ want to startle from behind, especially if that Bakuzan Gako tantō is within your reach, right? I don’t need you turning me into a frickin’ Pez dispenser!”

“Matoi, I _told_ you I was sorry for that! How many times do I need to apologize? I’ll admit, sometimes I cannot control…that...especially if I’m approached from behind. You can be unnervingly stealthy at times, you know! My breathing, it involuntarily stops when that happens, I…hell, if only Sanageyama Uzu knew the truth of why it is virtually impossible to sneak up on me from behind? It was from me always dreading _her_ filthy touch, but I can’t very well tell him that. I try very hard to not be that way, but…”

Ryuko’s hand made its way to Satsuki’s own, briefly squeezing a message of understanding. “I know, cutie. I get it. You don’t hafta tell me. I do what I can to alleviate that, ya know. I know how it is. No worries, okay? I love you, and it’s worth it to pay attention to the little details.”

In general, Kiryuin Satsuki thought of herself as a particularly observant and meticulous individual. Yet occasionally something would escape her radar, and it was disorientating to discover such a blatantly obvious thing: that Ryuko had been very carefully modulating her own behavior to alleviate Satsuki’s own nervous quirks and eccentricities. That she did this under the guise of goofy and sometimes shamelessly self-deprecating theatrics was part of the reason behind the easy dismissal of such odd antics, but apparently Ryuko did that to hide their true purpose, as well? The depth and breadth of this girl’s considerate and sweet nature simply could not be estimated anymore, as it was obviously beyond Satsuki’s realm of understanding or measure.

“I didn’t know you went that far with…I had _no_ idea. Ryuko-san, I cannot tell you how-“

One hand raised up to prevent the Kiryuin’s train of verbosity from gaining any more momentum. “Yeah, yeah. I’m all awesome and crap. Yer welcome. Lemme jus’ get more ‘fiber’ in my system to feed my fibers. Aw, don’t gimme that ‘weaponized worry’ look. I’m really sorry Sats, I don’t mean to be so rude and snippy to ya, I’m just…really, really tired, that’s all.”

“Have you been staying up late, packing your belongings? We don’t move out until next weekend, you know. Or is it that old guest bed you’ve been using? It isn’t nearly as comfortable as my own, of course. In fact, we can arrange to have that guest bed moved to the new house, then you could perhaps join me tonight in the master bedroom once again for some quality-“

“No! Aw, heck. My stuff’s all been packed up since a few days ago; I ain’t got that much junk! No, I’m just…not sleeping well, that’s all. Listen Satsuki-sama, lemme just work through some personal stuff, then we can sleep in the same bed together again, all right? I promise it won’t take much longer. I just…I still don’t feel like it’s safe for ya to… _-ah-,_ ya know…be near me right now.”

“Ryuko-chan, you were given a clean bill of health by everyone, Mikisugi included! I assure you, the autonomous mechanism behind the self-defense actions your life fibers displayed that awful night was purely situational, that of _extreme_ self-preservation! It cannot be triggered by something as mundane as a nightmare! We  both know this! So please stop holding it against yourself?! I-“

“Satsuki-sama, I will let you know when I feel it’s safe. If it means anything to you, I m-miss you, too. Just lemme do this, okay? I gotta…I gotta be _certain_. I just need some time, is all.”

They looked quietly at each other, the air between them rife with opportunity for more discourse…but it remained fallow of verbal resolutions. Neither girl had it in them to press the advantage of their respective issues; their nerves were simply too frazzled to push their luck. Satsuki sighed and bowed her head slightly, a clear signal that her impassioned logic was being sheathed for the time being.

“As you wish, Ryuko-san. Anyways, scoot on out of here for the time being. I’m going to be preparing lunch today. I know you just ate breakfast, but it’s not my fault you’re such a late riser! However, knowing your appetite, I’m sure you will be hungry for lunch by the time it is ready.” Satsuki had been developing an enthusiasm for cooking as of late, the precisely cut ingredients and exacting preparation details satisfying her deep-seated need for control and organization in a most delectable and rewarding manner.

Ryuko shrugged, trudged over to the sink and plopped her bowl down, not even bothering to wash it out after use as per Satsuki’s normally-strictly-enforced kitchen rules. “Fine, I’m takin’ a shower. Holler when ya want me to eat with ya. I ain’t goin’ anywhere today.” Satsuki watched Ryuko plod down the hallway, head down and shoulders stooped. It was a far cry from the actions of the proud, bouncy woman she knew so well.

She set herself upon the task of preparing lunch as she mentally pondered the plan to rescue her dear sister from the doldrums of crippling depression. It was a veritable Gordian knot of deeply tangled emotions that was confounding Satsuki here, but somehow she didn’t think a sword would be the appropriate solution in this case.

 _‘Solving problems without a sword will be quite a challenge…here now is the opportunity to become the better person I need to be. I will find a way to free you from this, Ryuko-chan! I swear I will! But…how?’_ Looking down at her hand, she felt her grip tighten on the large, gleaming chef knife that she was currently wielding. _‘Maslow was right. I suppose it is tempting…if the only tool you have is a hammer, to treat everything as if it were a nail…’_

 

-

 

Ryuko breathed in the steam from the shower as she stepped out, enjoying the feel of hot moisture on her lithe body. She would have to convince Satsuki to go with her to the beach sometime soon, since they hadn’t yet gone that summer and the ocean always worked wonders for improving her foul mood. In fact, she hadn’t actually even laid her eyes upon Kiryuin Satsuki in an actual bikini in public yet, since the one time they had made it to the beach, she was called away by some mysterious work-related emergency five minutes into their arrival. Well, that would have to change soon.

Reaching for a towel, she caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror. Ryuko stood there, taking in the image as it was presented to her. She sighed, frowning slightly as she regarded her tired facial features.

“I look like real crap, don’t I? Man, those bags under my eyes…maybe I should grab some sleeping pills or something, I dunno. Maybe I should go back to sleeping with Satsuki, after all? Probably the main reason I can’t sleep, anyways. But if I have another nightmare like I did last night around her, she could get hurt! Goddammit, why can’t anything be easy?”

Standing up straight, she gave herself a critical assessment of her own physical features. “Still, I guess I ain’t too bad to look at, in general. Eh. Feet are just feet fer kickin’ ass, nothing special there. Hmm, I’m liking those calves, some real nice definition. Ugh, those knobby knees of yours could be better, Matoi…but I guess I can’t do much about that. Thighs are juuuust a bit too thick. I should start running again or something. Ew, gotta trim the ol’ jungle down there, too. Been way too long since anyone’s been down there, myself included! God, hospitals are, like, the least sexy place in the entire world, even if the nurses there are sometimes super hot! Boy, I could really go fer a good ol’ pearl polishing these days! Maybe that’s what I need to cheer up, a little bit of horny time? Never met anyone who didn’t feel better after cumming a few times. But hell no, not with _that_ scary bush in the way. Mmm, my hips are killer, though! Oh, yeah! I do have an awesome ass. That ass rocks! Shake-shake it baby, woo! Oh, wouldja look at that, those Dimples of Venus are so sexy, so glad I’m blessed with those babies! Hmm. That tummy’s lookin’ a bit too soft? Meh, I’ll never be able to have abs of steel like Satsuki’s, though. Way too much work, and ain’t no one ever limiting _my_ ice cream intake! Lesse here…yep! Perfect boobs are still perfect! Perky? Check! Firm? Check! Nipples still _*ah!*_ ohmy _yes_. Still super sensitive! Ha-ha, ba-boing! Oh my, is it cold in here, or is it just me? Mmmm-hmm. Arms are lookin’ pretty buff there, Matoi! That bike’s engine ain’t gonna lift itself when I pull it, now is it? Heh heh!”

Ryuko stepped closer, peering through the steamy reflection to squint at herself in greater detail. She posed in an exaggerated bodybuilder manner, granting her imaginary audience free tickets to the Matoi Gun Show, now in glistening progress. She growled, grunted and generally made the silliest poses possible while on her magnificent bathroom stage.

“Contestant Matoi Ryuko! I’d judge you to be an easy eight-point-five out of ten! You’ve certainly got it where it counts, you sexy…beast…” Ryuko’s cheer evaporated instantly once her roaming eyes focused upon her own gear-like pupils staring back at her in the mirror. Her silly smile melted back to being an indeterminate mask of vapid dullness.

“Oh yeah… _that_. Nice eyes ya got there, mutant. Oh whoops, we forgot to tell you: this competition is for _humans only_.” She wrapped the towel around her sopping hair, threw on her robe and made her way out of the bathroom. She paused at the mirror again as she reached for the light switch, looking intently at her own searching pupils, sullenly watching the intricate patterns shift as she focused upon them. After a few moments of grim consideration, Ryuko shrugged weakly. “I’ll give you a three out of ten. Maybe you can just wear sunglasses for the rest of your life.”

 

-

 

“Ryuko-san? Ah, there you are! Lunch has been ready for a while now. Here, I brought you a bowl. Are you hungry yet?” Ryuko looked up briefly from her motorcycle racing video game, shrugging as she nodded towards the coffee table in front of her. “Yeah. Sure, I guess. Sorry. Didn’t hear you.”

“Oh, is my voice losing the power of projection? I shall have to try harder in the future…that is, unless it’s due to hearing loss from that metal music you like so much?” Satsuki quipped.

“Mmm…” was the only response elicited from the sullen youth. The beef yaki udon bowl was placed in front of her, which she eyed, but did not immediately pounce upon with great fury as was her usual custom.

Satsuki sat upon the couch a respectable distance away, not wanting to crowd out Ryuko’s personal space. “Do you mind if I watch you play?”

“Nope.”

The game was new, or at least Satsuki guessed that it was. She had not seen it before, but Ryuko had many games piled up that she had yet to even crack open, one of her shopping weaknesses being the inability to resist any type of video game sale.

“Not playing the usual, I see. Do you not feel like yelling at the ‘newbies’ today as you ‘frag’ them?”

Ryuko’s dull expression flickered briefly, then went back to being lax. “No. First person shooters have kinda…lost their luster recently. That’s all.”

Satsuki nodded slowly, her tranquil pensiveness overwhelming her sudden desire to grab Ryuko and hug the hurt right out of her hide.

“That’s understandable, to not want to be shot again, even in a simulation.”

“I’m glad I was shot.”

“Ryuko! Don’t say such things!”

“If I hadn’t been there at that moment, you would have been killed fer sure. I survived. You wouldn’t have. End of story.”

Satsuki had no answer for that. It was most likely true. Though Ryuko had come within a fiber’s breadth of dying herself, Satsuki would have had absolutely no chance of living through such a grievous injury whatsoever. She looked down, smoothed her skirt over her knees and sighed quietly. This was a delicate situation, and she was not built with delicacy in mind. She imagined that this was what it must feel like, to be a civilian behind the controls of a jet airliner, the pilot unconscious next to her as she stared at the incredibly complex bank of knobs, switches and blinking lights.

“You _motherfucker_.”

“- _what?_ ”

“Fucker! Don’t you even think of-No, you didn’t! _No!_ No…aw, fuck, fuckity fuck! God _damn_ it!’

Ryuko gripped the game controller, her knuckles strained white with rage. The plastic groaned and complained as it struggled to not explode from the fury of one Matoi Ryuko: loser of this motorcycle tournament, yet again.

“Fuuuck. I think I mighta busted it.” Ryuko shook the controller, and the rattle of loose plastic bits inside the housing confirmed her theory. She tried to pause the game, but the poor controller couldn’t even do that. It then sailed across the room, landing just outside the trashcan in a final, defiant contribution towards Ryuko’s latest losing streak.

“Yeah, fuck you, too.” Ryuko snarled, veins bulging out of her forehead as teeth ground together with a horrid nails-on-chalkboard sort of noise.

“Well, now what? You broke your controller.” Satsuki dryly observed, not wanting to puncture this hydrogen balloon with a lit match, while also being entirely unable to let such unsavory behavior go unnoticed.

“- _Pfft_ -Oh, like _this_ hasn’t happened before.” Ryuko got up, trotted over to the closet and opened it, whereupon she reached into a large box and drew out another controller, still in the retail packaging. She then plopped back onto the couch, staring idly at the screen as the last of the straggling motorcycles crossed the finish line.

Eyes closed, Ryuko then mumbled something under her breath as she sank her head back into the couch in solemn defeat. Whatever it was, it was a declarative statement rather than another epithet, but it was too quiet to be heard. Satsuki cleared her throat, then primly asked “What was that? I’m afraid that I didn’t quite catch that, dear.”

A tear slowly rolled out from under Ryuko’s eye, a fat, heavy drop of frustration and regret. She sniffled, then opened her eyes and rolled them over to her elder sibling. “I need your _help_.”

“How? You want I should obtain a larger trashcan, perhaps?”

Ryuko snorted in spite of herself. Wiping away the errant tear, she weakly punched Satsuki’s shoulder. “Quit joking, I’m serious. I need you to teach me how to be less angry. You’re, like, the eye of ‘Tropical Cyclone Matoi’, you know that? Well okay, maybe ‘Tropical Depression’ might be more accurate here, right? But still…I can’t handle this rage anymore. I’m so afraid of lashing out, of hurting you or someone else I love. But…I’m as busted as that damned controller. My kind of power shouldn’t be in the hands of a person like me, but unless they come up with a ‘ _Life Fibers - Begone!_ ’ medication, well…”

“Ryuko-san…I will assist you any way I can, you know this. However, I haven’t the foggiest idea of how I could possibly accomplish this feat? You haven’t been the most, shall we say, _receptive_ individual when it comes to personal criticism, and I’m not sure I am the best candidate for-“

“Oh, please! You are the very _definition_ of control! Look, it’s one thing to have the ability to do something, but to have an actual working knowledge of the _why_ and the _how_ is…it’s beyond me, okay? Satsuki-sama, you have this deep understanding of things, you are the smartest person I’ve ever known! I just know you can impart some keen wisdom upon me, make me see the error of my ways! If not you, then who? Really, no one else has the kind of patience you have, especially with _my_ delinquent ass? Right?”

“I don’t know if ‘patience’ is the proper term. I’ve been known to have quite the temper myself, in certain situations. No, I have had the resolve to accomplish my life’s goals, even if I haven’t been very nice about it. Compassion, now that is truly my weakness! Can you teach me that, then? Would _this_ be an easy task, Matoi Ryuko?”

“I…I’d find a way.”

“I’m not sure how I can impart some ‘deep wisdom’ upon you. What makes you so certain that I have a deeper understanding of things than you? You are no fool, Matoi…even though you are the dictionary definition of ‘impetuous’, you’re not dumb by any means!”

“Ah, no, no. Ya see, I’m the dictionary definition of ‘cool’. You should look that up!”

“Oh, heavens no, dear. I did do that, but I spied your picture next to the entry for ‘cocky’, and looked no further!”

Ryuko pouted, her butt now thoroughly whipped by the caustic wit of Kiryuin Satsuki. She stood up suddenly, grabbing Satsuki’s hand and tugging her towards the door with great urgency. “Come with me, I gotta show you something!”

“O-okay? Where are we going?”

“To my practice space. Come on, it’s important!”

They made their way through the labyrinthian mess of moving boxes to the room above the garage…the lair where few dared to tread. Satsuki eyed the somewhat imposing stack of guitar amplifiers, preamps and assorted floor pedals with great caution. The one time she had been here before, she discovered that one’s molars could possibly be loosened with a single, blisteringly loud Black Sabbath riff, and vowed to never return. This harrowing incident was quickly followed by the immediate ratification of the ‘ _Kiryuin-Matoi Noise Ordinance Treaty_ ’, which specified exactly when Ryuko was allowed to produce such noise (only when Satsuki was ten kilometers away or more, upon pain of subsequent musical equipment immolation).

“Oh, no. Are you…turning it on?” Satsuki whined through wincing teeth, ears already plugged with quivering fingertips. Ryuko chuckled at such bravado.

“Relax, you big wuss. It’s already on. Look, the volume is below one, see?” At this, she strummed a chord, to prove that the volume was at a most tolerable level. Satsuki relaxed her defensive posture, deciding to hear her sister out for the time being. Arms now crossed, she nodded to the amplifiers.

“Why can’t you just play at that volume all the time? Then I wouldn’t have to be so mindful of your playing.” Ryuko flashed a pearly, wiseass smirk. “I do. It’s just way more fun to be super loud!”

“What, recently? I thought you only played at Godzilla levels of volume? You haven’t notified me of this, or asked about my whereabouts for a while?”

“Sure! I played yesterday morning like this.”

“Yesterday? I was _here_ yesterday morning, preparing for our moving arrangements. Did you forget that I wasn’t working that morning?”

“I…well, yeah, but…but you didn’t even notice!”

“Very well. Where’s my lighter? I’ll be right back.”

“No! I was using my headphones, all right? Jeez! I was kidding! You need to relax! I obeyed the letter of the law…and the spirit of it, too! You heard _nothing_!”

“Don’t test me, Matoi. I’ll do it.”

“Yeah, I believe ya. Now relax, all right? I just wanted to show you an example of what I meant.”

The black-shocked punk, red strands of hair bobbing as she spoke, lectured her sister as the guitar pick weaved and danced through the air to illustrate her train of thought.

“Now here’s why I need you to teach me about meditating or something similar. I’m trying to get my anger under control. It’s getting in the way of just about everything I do. Hell, I almost broke this guitar recently…and I love this baby! It’s so frustrating to know that my life fibers grant me enhanced ability, but not understanding. I can’t write music, I can’t understand music theory. I can imitate, but I can’t create. Believe me, Nonon has tried to teach me…in fact, I think she left the country just to get away from my bitching! I’m just not good at book-learning-type stuff, ya know? I never learned _how_ to learn, I guess I was too busy learning how to defend myself or whatever. Here, listen to this.”

Ryuko played a quick solo, her fingers flowing over the fretboard with practiced grace and precise control. Her body dipped and swayed as she wrenched out furious, blazing notes with frenzied strokes of her pick. Ending with some technically impressive arpeggio sweeps, she then brought it to a sudden halt, the reverb’s echo ringing through the amps. “Ya see, Sats? This is just jerking off.”

Eyebrows furrowed with slight confusion, Satsuki pointedly asked “What band wrote a song with such a vulgar title?”

Ryuko laughed out loud, the notion tickling her brain in a most unexpected fashion. “Ha ha haaa! Oh, that’s priceless! No, no…- _heh heh!_ \- it’s just… _*snort!*_ …I meant that it was just pointless noodling and wheedling around, all right? Just an example of how I can do intricate crap like that, but I don’t really get the theory behind it. Like, I don’t even know what _key_ that was in. That’s all!”

Satsuki sniffed, then casually noted “Well, it certainly sounds like the title of something a band you’d like would have written.”

“Maybe, but the point is that I get so mad that I don’t have the patience to learn stuff the proper way…well…’Little Miss Anger Management Issues’ here takes over. And the results ain’t pretty. Shit, I even bent the fork of my motorcycle when someone cut me off in traffic the other day. Dammit, I need help with my temper, Satsuki! Can’t you think of anything I can do? I need to learn to be this calm ‘Zen master’ like you are, like when you shoot a bow? Hey, how about you teach me that, huh? I tried it once, with that old practice bow of yours? It’s really hard! I couldn’t hit shit with that thing. I bet if you could teach me how to do that, I’d find a nice bit of Zen in me, right?”

The Kiryuin youth’s eyes drifted away, focusing upon an imaginary point many yards and also many years away. “Ah…to learn kyūdō is no easy task. I’m not sure that is the proper place to start. I would have…misgivings about that, Ryuko.”

“But Satsuki-sama…you’re like this supreme master of archery? You said that’s how you learned to focus? I remember you saying that to me! So why can’t I learn the same way? I need to learn that kind of focus!”

Satsuki turned sad, haunted eyes towards her upset sibling, her spirit being embroiled in its own vicious turmoil, but a safety control mechanism forged long ago was keeping that poisonous furor locked away in the proper place.

A quiet murmur was heard above the ever-present hiss of amplifiers. “A bow is just an instrument of murder to me now, Ryuko. I have taken the lives of innocent people with one, misused my talents in the very worst of ways. The bow is only good for killing in my mind, I can’t see past that now. I’m sorry.”

Ryuko turned off the amps, then mechanically plunked her guitar into its floor stand. Eyes cast to the ground, she slowly walked over to stand before her sister. One hand resting upon Satsuki’s shoulder, she drew in a slow breath that caught upon a hitch, then another. By the time Ryuko managed to drag her eyes up to meet Satsuki’s own delicate orbs, she was openly weeping.

“S-so, what yer sayin’ here is…that a w-weapon can’t ever be used for anything but that, right? That it can only look forward to a lifetime of killing and destruction, yeah? To hell with ‘ _Swords to Plowshares’_ , right? There’s no hope? E-even if it’s a-even if she’s a…l-living weapon?”

A quiet gasp escaped from Satsuki’s tense throat. She was caught dead to philosophical rights, and she knew it. All this talk, this bluster of trying to change her ways…it meant nothing if it didn’t equally apply to others that were affected by her holy war as well.

“R-Ryuko-san! I didn’t mean to imply…I…you…you’re _right_. I have been selfish in my ways. I cannot only think of myself in times like these. I…I shall teach you. You have my word.”

A smile broke out across Ryuko’s troubled face, a shimmering beacon of light on an otherwise stormy day. “You…will? Really? A-are ya sure?” She sniffled, then choked, profuse amounts of thanks and earnest praise getting caught up in a traffic jam within her swelling chest.

Satsuki reached out and quickly enclosed Ryuko in a warm, tender embrace. “Of course, my dear love. I shall not deny you the opportunity to better yourself. I will find a way to heal you, regardless of the personal cost.”

“Heal us, you mean.”

“Y-yes, of course. I shall have to find a way to cope with my own…vicious past, won’t I?”

“Yeah, _we_ will. Thanks, Satsuki-sensei. This means a lot to me.”

“Oh, my. Sensei, you say? You’ll find that I am not a pushover like Mikisugi, dear. I will be most demanding of you. This will be both a spiritual and a mental challenge!”

“I was hoping so. I’ll be learning from the best!”

“We shall see. Come. Our first lesson awaits. We can talk in the garden while we discuss such things.”

“Really? Now?”

“Certainly. I’ll need to explain some concepts to you, such as the ‘archer’s paradox’.”

“Ooh, should I go grab the bow? I even cleaned it for you, I looked up how to do it properly and everything! I can show you, come and see!”

“No, we won’t be touching it for a while. I’ll need to prepare you for such an undertaking by purging you of some basic archery misinformation which I’m sure has built up in your mind. Come, walk with me. Now you see, the phrase’ straight as an arrow’ is something of a misnomer. Arrows are not actually ‘straight’ in their flight path, per se: the force of leaving the string causes the shaft to wobble, to curve _around_ the bow as it is launched through the air, like this, see? The exact amount of this flex is called ‘dynamic spine’. This is why you don’t aim directly for the target with the arrow, as this wobbling will throw off the arrow’s path and cause you to miss. An archer must know the exact parameters of what they are using, in order to gain the desired results. It calls for one to be intimately familiar with their tools…to be able to compensate for all known issues and be remarkably precise as a result. So you need not wonder any longer how I could have possibly anticipated exactly how my soldiers would perform in battle, yes? I knew of their prowess even better than _they_ did.”

“Oi, and ya gotta have a ‘spine’ to have real resolve, right?”

“Ah yes, I suppose that is true. Know your limits, yet always strive to exceed them! This is what I hope to instill within you, in due time. Now, modern compound bows don’t suffer from this aiming issue quite so much. Rather, they have the shaft go straight _through_ the center of the bow, via a central cutout. You, of course, will not have access to the wonders of these modern materials and conveniences. I’d consider that to be cheating! No, you will learn the old-fashioned way…the way I learned. After all, it’s not the bow we need to improve…but the mind that wields it, correct?”

“Yeah!”

“Yes…what?”

“Um…yes, Sensei.”

“Now you see, Ryuko-chan? You are already learning!”

 

-

 

“Heyyyy, Satsuki-sama! What’cha doin’, huh?” Ryuko chirped merrily as she strode into Satsuki’s study, arms akimbo as she bounced energetically upon her heels with excitement before the massive desk.

Satsuki looked up over antique reading glasses, slightly surprised at the time that was now displayed upon the ornamental wall clock. “Oh! I am so terribly sorry, Ryuko-san! I let myself get wrapped up in this proposal. Here, let me finish up with saving this one file…”

“Yeah, yeah…duty calls and all that. But this afternoon, yer mine, all mine! You-”

“- _promised_ , yes I know, Ryuko. I apologize, truly. Here now, all done. I’ll have to catch up with this early on Monday, I fear…but, for now? I am, as you say, ‘yours’ for this afternoon. Where did you decide upon for our day out together? I hope it’s not another day of being cooped up inside for video games? It’s a lovely day outside.”

“Oh no, we’re going all out…to the beach!”

“Ah, the beach, you say? Er…well, I...is anyone else going, perchance?”

“Nope. Everyone else is busy. Dumbass Uzu broke his toe in a recent match, and he said that he ‘can’t be seen being so ‘weak’ in public, it’ll interfere with the invincible combat aura he emanates’ or whatever…that perfect idiot! Nonon’s not back in the country until next week, of course, and Inumuta said that the beach I chose has ‘terrible Wi-Fi’, so he passed on the opportunity to hang with us hot chicks! What a jerkwad, right? Like, seriously…life priorities?”

“I see. And what of Mako and Ira? Shall they be joining us, or…?”

“Oh, they have…uh, plans today…other plans.”

“Yes? What plans are those?”

Ryuko’s lips pursed together tightly. She rocked back and forth upon her heels, swaying back and forth in an effort to control her giddy self. So far, that plan wasn’t working out…her wild grin was betraying her pathetic attempts at self-control.

“Um…you don’t want to know. They’re just…busy. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Why? Is everything all right? Are they experiencing some sort of difficulties? There seems to be something you don’t want to tell me. What is it, Matoi? What’s the matter?”

“I…can’t tell ya. You don’t want to hear it.”

“Well, _now_ I do. I insist that you tell me! I’ll worry about them all day if you don’t come clean right this instant!”

“Are ya sure? You ain’t gonna appreciate the answer.”

“I’m a big girl, Matoi. I can handle it. Now tell me, what is going on with them?”

Ryuko sighed, steeling herself to get through her next statement without completely losing her already-tenuous composure. She slyly leaned against the doorframe, a lustful glare now upon her impish mug. She allowed her shirt to drop down from one shoulder as an utterly absurd pose of silliness was presented, acting skills pushed to their absurd limits as she swiped one hand dramatically through her hair.

“They are going to a different beach. A… _NUUUUUDISSSST BEACCCHHH_!”

Satsuki’s face took on a placid, tranquil expression. Much like a parent suffering cheerfully through their child’s horrendous grade school recital, she accepted this ridiculous debacle as it played out in front of her with commendable grace and demure calmness. She carefully took her reading glasses off, folded them and placed them neatly upon the desk.

“Oh, my. Ryuko, you do that all too well. I don’t recall you being trained so rigorously in the ways of that group. Are your nipples shining a bright magenta right now, by any chance?”

“Ah, lemme see here…hmm…nnnnope! Just the usual ‘perky pink perfection’ they always are! Why, ya wanna come check, eh?“

“Not right now, no. So, are you being serious here, in your message if not in your atrocious attempts at acting? Are they really doing…that?”

Ryuko guffawed loudly, mirth tickling her in sensitive, private places. “I warned you, but ya didn’t listen! Yeah, they really _are_ doing that! It’s totally Mako’s idea, she’s doing it to ‘teach Gamagōri-senpai a lesson in humility’…and those are  her words, not mine. I guess the big guy rubbed her the wrong way or something, and now he has to endure her wrath at some fancy ‘couples-only, clothing-optional’ beach? I don’t know the exaaact details of that, but once Mako gets an idea in her head? It’s all over for everyone involved!”

Satsuki stroked her jaw, trying to imagine Ira’s embarrassment overwhelming him more than the threat of her own sword at Rinne-Dō Junior High ever could. ‘ _Well now. There’s no shield that can possibly save you there, old friend…I can only wish you the best of luck!_’ she mused wryly, almost wishing she could witness the outcome of such a titanic struggle.

“Very well, Matoi. We shall go to the beach. Give me some time to prepare, I should be ready to go in about forty-five minutes or so.”

“What? That long? Come on, just grab yer towel and we can head over there right now!”

“Well, if we must go to the beach, I’ll absolutely need to locate my SPF 70 sunblock, my best blue one-piece swimsuit, my largest sun hat, my podiatrist-recommended sandals, my heavy-duty beach umbrella, my favorite zero-gravity chair, my darkest sunglasses, my longest cotton sundress, my-“

“You don’t need all that crap, Sats! Come _on_ already, just grab yer damned swimsuit, you stick-in-the-mud! Let’s go!”

Satsuki scoffed. “It’s not like I am going there to _swim_ , my dearest imouto-san. The ocean itself is quite disgusting! No, the ocean is for relaxing and resting near, and perhaps for getting some nice, fresh sea air. That’s all.”

“Whaa-aaat?” Ryuko’s mouth hung open, disappointment tinging her sad, upturned face. “No…no water sports? No splashing, no playing around at all?” Her highly anticipated hopes of performing the infamous ‘Jaws’ routine upon her unsuspecting sister were evaporating before her very eyes, not to mention her fearsome ‘ _Atomic Underwater Kancho Attack’_ (アトミック水中カンチョー攻撃)she was planning to unleash, if she saw the opportunity.

“Not with _me_ , no. Sorry, but that is how I feel about the ocean, end of story. Do not seek to guilt me into going into the water, either! If I wanted to swim in the water, the pool is where I would go! It is a properly controlled, and most importantly, _clean_ environment for my precious body! Do what you will with _yours_ , Matoi...I need to look after my own mortal shell with the greatest of care!”

“All right, ya spoilsport. Besides, you could stand to get a tan anyways...”

“Surely you jest? What, Lady Kiryuin Satsuki…get a _tan_? Why, so I can be mistaken for a common farmer? This skin, sweet love, is the purest example of pale aristocracy! I take great pains to cover it up, and protect it from the sun’s damaging rays. Skin cancer is a very real risk these days, Ryuko! You should think of this while you are cavorting about in the surf! In fact, now that I think of it, I’ll be applying sunblock quite liberally to _your_ skin once we get there!”

“You just stay the hell away from me with that goop, Kiryuin! I want a nice tan for the summer! You haven’t even been there with me _once_ this year, so you owe me a nice, beautiful beach day! So suck it up, Princess Alabaster Ass!”

“I will meet you at the front of the house, you churlish creature…go and wait for me there. I shall be down shortly.”

“Yes, your Royal Meanness! _Mnyeaghh_!” Ryuko spat out, one finger pulling down her eyelid in a textbook example of the akanbe she so frequently deployed towards her rivals.

“Rrrrr-I’ll give you a ‘ _red eye_ ’, you disrespectful little…!” Satsuki snarled emphatically, but it was too late: Ryuko had already darted away to collect her things for the trip. “Hmph. Oh, you’re getting sunblock for certain, now. I won’t be warming it up either, you little brat!” she grumbled, stalking her way through the house to gather her own mountain of sun-defying accoutrements.

 

-

 

“Come on, Satsuki! Quit stallin’ in there! The beach is waitiiiing!”

“Ah, Ryuko? I seem to be having a wardrobe issue. My bag doesn’t seem to have my swimwear in it. I believe it might be yours, though. Do you own a yellow two-piece bikini, perchance?”

“No, but _you_ do… now.”

“What? Where is my one piece? This scrap of cloth would barely cover my…MATOI! DID YOU _PLAN_ THIS?”

“Oh, suck it up. You are the hottest woman here, and it’s time you showed everyone that glorious fact!”

“I will not be seen in public with this…microscopic…atrocity adorning my body! Even Nudist Beach’s silly ‘uniform’ had more fabric than _this_!”

“Oh, so you’re afraid, then? _The fact that society’s values shame you only shows how small-time you are!_ ”

“* _gasp_ * How _dare_ you use my own words against me! This is…different! I’m… _fine_. You know what? You shall live to regret this, Matoi.”

“Whatever. Get out here, your Royal Hotness!”

“Rrr…if it means defeating you at your own game…I, Kiryuin Satsuki, will show neither shame nor hesitation, even if she wears a tiny bikini for all the world to see! My actions are utterly pure!"

The changing room door flew open, and an incredibly brilliant white light filled the eyes of all those in the immediate area as she stepped into the sun’s direct rays. Matoi Ryuko, her eyes being regretfully uncovered by sunglasses at that exact moment, had the overwhelmingly vivid afterimage of Kiryuin Satsuki’s glowing white aura burned into her retinas.

Prismatic stars filled poor Ryuko’s vision, her eyes now rendered pitifully useless against such a devastating _‘Pale Skin Visual Assault’_ (青白い肌視覚暴行), expertly wielded by one Kiryuin Satsuki. Ryuko stumbled about comically, arms splayed out in front of her as she waved them around for fears of stumbling into any stationary objects.

“Wha-what just happened? I can still see the outline of yer smokin’ hot body…I think you actually blinded me? Satsuki, help me out here, will ya? Sats?”

“Of course, dear. Now stay still…” Satsuki crooned as a cold jet of SPF 70 sunblock flew through the air, splattering Ryuko’s sun-sizzled back with the creamy, frigid substance. The girl screeched, now hopping mad with sheer indignance. Goosebumps rippled over her flesh as the youth covered up her ample breasts, for fear of exposing suddenly-super-erect nipples that now threatened to cut right through her own bikini top.

“AAaaaaRRRrrGGgghhh! KIRYUIIIIN SATSUKIIII! I’m gonna KILL youuuu!”

“Consider that payback for what you just did, ‘Yuko!”

“Eh? Yuko, is that my new nickname?” she spluttered as she tried in vain to zero in on her darling companion’s voice.

“No, that should probably be my little ‘Pearl’.”

“Huh? Why’s that?”

Well, much like you, they are formed primarily through _constant irritation_!”

“Aw, yer so frickin’ sentimental!”

“Whereas you are just… _mental_.”

“Ha, ha. Now come clean this junk offa me!”

“Wipe away your own sunblock, Matoi.”

Satsuki stood there just out of reach, smugly savoring both the spectacle of Ryuko’s jiggling breasts and her own flawless victory, when her phone vibrated in her purse. Sighing, she squinted to see what the message might be about. The text was from Inumuta, and the message was brief.

_‘We need to talk. It’s urgent.’_

 

-

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to ‘Causality’.
> 
> Apparently I don’t know how to shut up. Well, at least the story doesn’t, at any rate.
> 
> Content notes:
> 
> The world’s most expensive perfume: http://www.clivechristianperfume.com/
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keiretsu - A set of companies with interlocking business relationships and shareholdings. It is a type of informal business group: in this case, the loosely-knit group that served to enhance REVOCS own position in Japan’s clothing and textile industry.
> 
> Satsuki’s ‘Maslow was right’ quote: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Law_of_the_instrument
> 
> Akanbe: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akanbe
> 
> Archer’s paradox: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archer's_paradox


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